


Beautiful Thing

by AraSigyrn



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe
Genre: Electricity, F/F, Objectification
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 05:59:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AraSigyrn/pseuds/AraSigyrn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darcy changed her whole life with just twelve words.  "I would totally quit my job to be your doormat.  For real."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beautiful Thing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Electricity]/[Objectification] squares on my kink-Bingo card.

Darcy told Jane once, in strictest tequila-fueled confidence, that she wanted to be Pepper Potts when she grew up. Then a Norse God fell out the sky and there was a whole alien invasion and then Darcy actually met Pepper Potts, Wonderwoman and Super-woman extraordinary. And they talked and Darcy was just a failboat but Pepper Potts, naturally, turned out to be even more awesome and gracious in person.

And Darcy changed her whole life with just twelve words. "I would totally quit my job to be your doormat. For real." 

Because Pepper licked her lips and Darcy saw her pupils expand and Darcy's just a kid, but she knows the signs. She's been that person with the unexpected kick of want that hotwires your whole body and leaves you prickly hot and wet at the groin. The polite thing to do would have been to give Pepper time to recover her composure by looking away or making polite observations about the weather. (The jackbooted thug responsible for teaching Darcy how to behave at this event was very thorough.) 

But Darcy didn't look away because goddamn, there's something surreal and intoxicating about being the person to put _that_ look in Pepper motherfucking Potts' eyes. Travelling the Bifrost wasn’t even a hundredth of the rush she felt right that second and Darcy will forever treasure the memory of how Pepper's glass wavered against her lower lip.

Eighteen months later, and this is Darcy's life.

There's an alien invasion - not the whole armies of death but still, an actual for-real invasion - so the Avengers are off being the biggest damn heroes the world has ever seen. It means that Tony's gone and Jane and Thor and all the rest of them are gone too. That's the only way this happens and Darcy's okay with that but she's been craving this.

Pepper's office is so high over the skyline of LA that most of the clouds pass under the window. It's all glass, not even a shoebox of shade. There isn't anything as mundane as a computer - her whole desk is the computer and there's a solid three-dimensional display when Pepper wants it. She mostly works through video conference and there's a thrill to that too because Darcy's never sure how much the pixelated people can see.

She's already sweating, just enough to make her skin gleam. Pepper keeps her between two vents, the dais perfectly angled to keep her in mint condition. Darcy's been here since before dawn - being sculpted into today's form by Pepper's personal designer.

She wonders sometimes if Tony knows. It's a dark squirming thought in the pit of her belly when she's hanging out with the Avengers but as the designer tapes the wires down along her arms and Darcy bites her lip as the clamps close around her nipple, the electrode feels uneven and Darcy's nipple gets more tender and sensitized with every breath.

The hum of electricity is always there; just enough for her to feel the promise of it. It'll shock her if she breaks the pose. Darcy hasn't been shocked since the first month. She's the most bad-ass human statue in the whole city. Still the threat of it adds a spice to the day.

Pepper looks over at her from time to time, usually in the middle of a call. This pose emphasizes her hips and her chest but Pepper never looks at Darcy like she's a person. There's admiration in her eyes and she detoured to walk around Darcy when she came in. Darcy must have looked awesome. The silvery light of pre-dawn is almost crystalline and it makes her skin glow.

The designer said that - to herself, not to Darcy because the designer is a fucking professional and Darcy's just the raw material - but she said it where Darcy could hear. There's a delicate balance to this, Darcy's learnt. She can't stay in the comfortable headspace that she needs if the designer is pawing at her (guest designer #1: her second week) but she starts second-guessing if the designer doesn't say anything at all (guest designer #3: month four). Darcy prefers the main designer, hands down, and she thinks Pepper does too because she hasn't seen any of the others in nearly a year.

Right now, Pepper is talking to the Tokyo office, lips pursed in vague disapproval as she listens. Darcy watches the flicker of the projection display until Pepper sits back in the chair, running her fingers over the controls. Darcy swallows when the tiny mesh figure appears just by her left hand. It looks blandly anonymous, just there on the fringe of the frame. Even if the Tokyo office can see it, they won't look at it.

Darcy hopes. 

Pepper is talking now, a confident flow of lyrical Japanese but even if Darcy wanted to pit her hodge-podge knowledge derived from three years of vague interest in anime against Pepper's rapid fire delivery, she can't spare the focus. The hologram woman moves under Pepper's almost absent fingers and Darcy feels the direction in the sting of the electrodes against her skin as she shifts to match the desired pose.

The electrodes are the only guide she has; the figure is too small, too far away and too obscured to be useful. She's never tested them, not at full capactiy and Darcy hopes she never will. The sharp shock of correction is enough to leave her muscles quivering and her breath short. She fears it and she loves it - the jolt leaves her body trembling but Darcy feels every shift in the air against her skin.

Correction makes it harder to keep the pose because even the strongest mind can't win over a high voltage. 

"Failure creates failure," Pepper had told her that first night. "The mesh won't kill you. It won't do serious damage even."

"Nothing to worry about?" Darcy had said, fighting to hold onto her smile. Darcy doesn't carry a taser because it's cool. Darcy carries a taser because she knows first-hand how electricity can make you thrash and howl.

"Nothing a pro should be worried about," Pepper murmured with that faint smile. She'd glanced at Darcy, a sideways flick of eyes and Darcy had lifted her chin and squared her shoulders.

That first session had been brutal. Darcy hadn't even been able to stand, left quivering like a jello-shot. Pepper had put her into a bed with sheets softer than marshmallow and kissed her. It was just a kiss. Darcy's first boyfriend back in middle school, nickname: the Puppy, had kissed her more passionately. But Pepper had also slipped three of those long elegant fingers in where Darcy was wet and open and fucked her remorselessly.

Darcy's lovers take an average of 3.2 weeks to find her g-spot. Jane graphed it for her once when they were bored and there wasn't enough vodka to get drunk. Pepper found it first try and Darcy was struck again by how very, very much she wants to grow up like this woman.

Four mind-blowing orgasms aside, that first session had been a disaster. The shocks had been scary and after the first few missteps, Darcy had gotten stuck in the loop until Pepper had shut it off. It was, hands down, the most humiliating experience of Darcy's life. She had to be a rug for the first week because Pepper didn't want to test her limits 'too hard'.

Even lying on the floor, breathing in the powdery organic detergent used by the cleaning firm that Pepper uses, isn’t as humiliating as the soft sigh of disappointment. Darcy learns a lot being a rug. She learns how to separate the humiliation and the dread from the thrill of pleasure. The first time Pepper walked over her in the latest Guiseppe Zanotti pumps, Darcy went home bruised and dispirited. The pin-prick bruises last for weeks but Darcy learned to relax, let go and just let it happen.

The first time she spent an entire afternoon as a doormat, mind pleasantly empty and didn’t flinch, Pepper took her out for dinner. The steak alone would have made it worthwhile but Pepper took her into the ladies room before the desert was served, backed her into a stall and finger-fucked her until Darcy was raw and gasping then Pepper took her back out and fed her chocolate cake, one spoon at a time.

"I can do this," Darcy had promised but it was still three weeks before Pepper let her try to be a statue again.

It hasn't been easy. Darcy's been shocked so many times that she's learnt not to feel the pain, only the thrill. She's fucked up in just about every way it is possible to fuck up but she comes back and does better every time. A year and a half ago, she'd have been sweating and shaking with fatigue. Today, Darcy shifts smoothly into what feels like a ballet pose with only the faintest hum in the electrodes covering her skin. She already knows the pose is perfect, the weight distribution is flawless and she doesn't even need to breathe deep to hold it.

And Pepper Potts, the most powerful woman in the world, looks over at her and her eyes gleam, hot and dark, for a second before she turns back to the projection with that enigmatic smile lingering around her lips.


End file.
